Delirious
by Her Sweetness
Summary: Oneshot Slight slash Malik's POV! Malik can't sleep, and so he's gone for a walk. Little did he know that he would find so much more than empty muses and torn condoms.


**Disclaimer**: I own nothing. 

Her Sweetness: Another one-shot from me. In Malik's POV when he can't sleep and goes out for a little walk. This one… I dunno where it came from, but I enjoyed doing it. I always like being in Malik shoes.

* * *

Maybe there's something watching us. Just watching us all… and we don't even know it. Or maybe… maybe we don't know it, but we're supposed to be watching over something. And that something is being neglected, because all we do is exist and we don't watch over it. Maybe that it… is so neglected that it's decided to reek havoc on the world. That's it's revenge. And since it's reeking havoc, and has control over the world… we can't take it over. Because it's out of our control.

Or maybe I'm an idiot.

Maybe the real reason we can't take over the world is because we're doing something wrong. Do you think that's it? Maybe we're supposed to do something else for a while. Eat ice cream… or maybe we should just clip our toenails… We haven't done that in a long, long time. My shoe size has been upgraded and I'm beginning to think it's because my toenails are so damn long.

I'm delirious.

But this is how it is, when I'm awake at vampire hours. Which isn't very often. Not at all. He's always up though. Talking to himself and… conspiring against the world. That's why I think we're doing this wrong. We must be. Because if we were doing this write, wouldn't be already be ruling the world? It's odd that I'm thinking about this, because I never do. I'm not supposed to, I guess. That's his job. That's why he stays up so late. When I'm cuddled up in the bed, he's at the computer going to black-market websites and making threatening phone calls.

But not tonight. Tonight I'm the one that's up. Me. I can't sleep and therefore I'm just sitting at the window sill, watching the night pass me by. Sometimes looking in the opposite direction, at him. He's never slept this peacefully before. Most of the time, he rolls and flips and I get dumped on the floor. Which isn't always so bad, because I hear less of his snores. He snores. A lot. And you wouldn't know it because he barely ever breaths when he's awake. So still.

Sometimes I find myself staring at him for about thirty minutes. While we were watching television one time. It was so stupid, I just sat there, on my side of the couch, starring at him like he's some kind of oil painting, meant to be admired. But, of course, that's how most people think of him. Except them. The two we hate. You know who I'm talking about, don't try and think about it. Don't think. Ra, I'm so stupid.

It's getting super late… around one or something. I can't really see the clock, it could be later. And I can't just sit up here all night. I'll wake him. I swear, it's like he can sense me. Whatever I'm doing, even if he's not looking at me, he'll tell me to shut up or sit down. Gosh, maybe he can hear me. I've got to get out of here.

The door opened and the wind hit me in the face as I stepped out onto the porch. Oh, Ra, I forgot how nice the nighttime air is. It's calm and smells like little girls do after they take a shower. Like lilac. Mmm… But, of course, I've never smelled a little girl before. No, I was referring to the time he and I went chasing after the two that we hate through their school. The school's pool I think it was… and we went through the girl's locker room. Of course, he and I paid no attention to them. We wanted nothing but the puzzles. But they screamed. So, so loud and it hurt my ears. Their coach threw us out but before she did, I saw this young girl with long black hair. She was holding a towel against her chest and smiling at me. I was a good ten feet away from her, but I could smell the lilac perfume that she wore.

I jumped off the side walk and into the streets. For some reason, I forgot my shoes and kept going anyway. The road had just been paved and it was as smooth as ever, so my feet didn't hurt or anything. My night clothes still on me, a blue tank top and a pair of dark blue pants. I probably look like a freak. Everyone else that walks around at this time of night is wearing black and sucking on someone's neck.

No, not vampires.

I don't believe in vampires. Well, I don't for his sake. He doesn't like it when I'm talking about other people's magic. He says "All you need to worry about is right in front of you." Gosh, that sounds so poetic. Why can't I be poetic? I'm about as lyrical as a porcupine caught between to mooses. Is that a word? The plural of moose is… mooses, right? Let's use it in a sentence:

_I saw a few mooses run by._

…

I'm really delirious. Why is this happening to me? Am I really that tired? Or maybe I'm thinking like this so I'll think I'm crazy and jump off a bridge. To prove a point. You know, I've always felt a bit of jealousy towards people who kill themselves and end up on the six o' clock news. Why aren't I ever on the news? For something good, I mean.

I'm almost always on the news for something horrible. He and I are always maiming and hurting people. And as much as I complain, it's not really that bad. I mean, I don't mind. But maybe I'd like to be a hero every once and a while. I'd be a good guy. I'd wear a cape and run around saving little, old ladies from looters. Instead of running over little old ladies with him. I'd fly around downtown and be someone that little kids look up to.

Maybe something has hit me in the head and I didn't realize it. Maybe that's why I'm such a fool. A real silly little… guy? I'm a guy. Heh heh, at first, looking down at my pedicured feet, I thought I was a girl. If I was a girl, I'd be so pretty. I can feel it. My hair would be in nice curls and I'd wear only a makeup… maybe just some lip gloss. Yeah, I've lost it.

My daze is broken when I notice two people hurry into a building. A neon light flashes above the door and the sign says: Club Incest. Oh, how lovely. Those two must be a couple. A nice boy with spiked hair and unseen piercings all over his body. And his little songbird with long brown hair, big black boots and a split tongue. The modern American couple has crossed my path and I didn't even say hi.

This walking is starting to get tiring. I haven't noticed for a while, but I've gone around my block for… what, is this the fifth time? I must use my time wisely and stop this nonsense. He doesn't like it when I'm wasting time. He doesn't like it when I think either. I don't think it's meant to be spiteful, but maybe he just thinks that thinking is too hard for me. He doesn't want me to hurt my brain.

… I'm making excuses for my other half.

I stopped and looked up at another neon sign. Only this one is not a club, it's a diner. And I just realized all this philosophizing is taking it's toll on my mind and my stomach. In short, I'm hungry and this place looks clean.

When I step in through the door, the bell above my head rings and I jump about two feet off the floor. But that's okay cause no one notices. It's got to be around two in the morning now and there's only the waitress behind the counter and some old guy sleeping at the bar. He's going to fall off that barstool. Fall. Fall. Fall. I'm concentrating all my powers on his butt and the off chance that he'll… He fell. My yami would be so proud of me.

I sat down at one of the tables in the back, not really intending to buy anything but just wanting to be somewhere were I can feel like I'm not an outcast. In a place with a fat waitress and a unbalanced bum, I feel at home. He would not like me saying that.

The fat waitress comes over and I can tell she's not American. Maybe Korean or something like that… But she's not so bad. She smells like a new computer.

"What can I get for you?" She asked me, and I can tell she's straining to speak like everyone else. I want to tell her to stop trying to be something you're not. Stop trying to fit in. It'll backfire and you'll become some ugly man's love slave.

I'm delirious.

"… Um, well, I-I guess I'll just have a salad." I don't want a salad. I just want to sit here, why won't she go away? I'm not hungry anymore.

She nodded and went away. Finally. Peace from the world and it's ugliness. I don't tell my other half this, but I think the world is ugly. Aside from us, and possibly a few people we know, the rest of the world is a big ball of ugly. But that's reality I'm guessing. That's why people like to escape into fantasy. Because fantasy can be as pure or as sweet… or as raw as you would like it. There is no limit to fantasy. But there's a limit to reality. A sad, sad limit.

The fat waitress comes back in less than a minute with a salad for me. She sits it in front of me, smiles and walks away. I didn't even ask how much this is going to cost me. It could be one of those awful, $50 for a piece of lettuce, salads. I'll be stuck washing dishes for the rest of my life. And yet I continue to eat this travesty of a salad.

Whilst eating, I feel something in my mouth shift the way lettuce and tomato isn't supposed to. There's something non-salady in my mouth. I reached inside with my finger and pull out a shredded piece of rubber. It's clear and white and… "OH RA! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? IT'S A CONDOM! THERE'S A CONDOM IN MY SALAD!"

I break the silence in the place and the fat waitress looks over at me and comes running, "W-What is wrong, sir?"

"THERE'S A CONDOM IN MY FOOD! SOMEONE HAD SEX IN MY FOOD! I COULD GET PREGNANT! I COULD GET AIDS!" I lifted the rubbery thing up to her and she sighed, giggling. Why is she giggling? This isn't funny.

She smiled softly at me and said, "That's part of the glove the cook wears. The finger part." Oh, how convenient. Liar. "Look, I'll show you." I was lead behind the counter and the woman explained what happened to the cook, who I also found out was the manager. They both laughed and apologized. They said the salad was free and I could have anything else I wanted. I didn't want anything else from this germ ridden place. I left and when I got out into the nice night air, calmed down a bit.

When the street stopped about fifty feet ahead, I found myself looking over a bridge. The water a calm blue, rolling on the bank of the river. It wasn't very deep and I wasn't high up… I could see my reflection. And I rarely ever think about it, but I'm very beautiful. Blonde hair, tanned skin… purple eyes… how many people have purple eyes? We do. I guess that means we're beautiful. And that means… we're a fantasy. He and I… we're a fantasy, because we're beautiful. And reality isn't beautiful. For some reason, this makes me kind of sad… because, even though the real world is ugly. I know that we can never be part of it. And if we're never part of the real world, we can never rule it… That's why we fail. We fail every time because we're beautiful.

Oh, Marik, I thought of something _good_.

I must tell him.

The trees and the stars blur around me as I race back to our house. Even the smooth ground is chaffing my feet, I'm going so fast. The stars and the other galaxies become lines that surround my face, but the moon is watching me. It's watching me go to my other half to tell him something. Oh, Ra, I'm finding out so many things. It's the moon. That's what we're supposed to be watching. The moon. But no one ever does… not the way their supposed to, anyway. So, it's taking it's revenge on us and watching us… ruling the world. The moon is ruling the Earth.

I've been thinking so much, I didn't realize I was right in front of my house. And He's… I mean, Marik's leaning on the doorframe starring at the moon. Is… is that what he does at night? He watches the moon? So, he knows what I've just figured out. He knows that the moon rules the world. He's known for so long. Ra, he's known, and he didn't tell me? Well, then, that also means he knows he can't rule the world. Because we're a fantasy. Because we're beautiful.

"Marik…"

He looks down at me, eyes clouded over with thought. Maybe it's not me he's looking at. No, it couldn't be. It figures, though. Marik's always one step ahead of me and this is no exception. I wonder how long he's known. But, no, that's not my place to ask. I'll just wait. This time I'll wait for him to tell me.

I walk right past him, into the house. And on the way in, I swore I could of heard him say something like, "One day, I'll be real. One day, I'll beat you…"

…

I'm delirious.


End file.
